


New World Order

by VCCV



Category: Glee
Genre: Homophobic Slurs, M/M, OOC, underaged drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 13:17:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11036958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VCCV/pseuds/VCCV
Summary: A night of drinking reveals several unexpected things.





	New World Order

"I never…did a girl in the ass." 

Miller nearly snorted his beer as six guys lifted their bottles to drink. "Well, fuck," he complained. "Who was it? I want some."

Azimio kicked Miller in the shin, grinning when the other player yelped. "Like we'd tell you. You'd probably want join in, you homo." Not as many snickers met his comment as he'd expected. Azimio narrowed his eyes and scanned around the circle. Owens and Miller gave the expected guffaw. Karofsky, he'd been acting weird for days, so it didn't surprise Azimio that he only gave a weak smile. The four guys wearing displeased expressions reminded him that Miller had invited those Glee douches. He'd spouted off something about 'mending team rifts' and 'handing out olive branches'. It sounded a lot like someone had gotten into that redheaded counselor's pamphlets. 

"How about this, then?" He bared his teeth in a nasty smile. "I never did a _guy_ in the ass." He was relieved when no one lifted his bottle, and he even got a nose wrinkle from Owens. But the Gleeks disapproving looks grew stonier, and Azimio grew more uncomfortable under the spotlight. He had almost gotten to the point of changing his 'I Never' when Karofsky, not known for his understanding of just when to shut the hell up, lifted his bottle over his head. 

"I never even _want_ to do a guy in the ass!" He glanced at Azimio as if he wanted reassurance, and then looked a bit bewildered—and Azimio couldn't blame him—when Mike, Matt and Puck each lifted their bottle and took a long drink. "Seriously?" he asked, his brow wrinkling. "You seriously want to tap man-ass?"

Mike shrugged. "I'm not going to go _looking_ for it, but I'm not going to run away from it, either."

Matt just nodded. Karofsky still looked confused as the three drinkers and Finn clinked bottles and grinned.

Azimio's eyes narrowed as he took in the camaraderie between the four Gleeks. "So how is that not homo?" Finn swung his head around so fast that Azimio heard his neck pop. The twitch under Finn's left eye and the tick in his jaw worried him a bit less than the fact that he'd also tensed to come up off of the couch. Azimio held his hands up defensively. "Okay, sorry! Can I say gay?"

Finn glared. "If you're using it right, yeah. If you start using it to be a dick, then no."

Karofsky tilted his head, ignoring the others' exchange, his expression still befuddled. "So, you two," he gestured to Matt and Mike, "go both ways. You," he pointed to Finn, "are straight but now that you're living with that ho—er, Hummel, you suddenly, like, found God or something?" He eyed Puck, who up to this point had been smirking and lounging back into the couch, letting his teammates do the talking. "What's your shit?" Karofsky challenged him.

Puck slowly raised a brow before taking another mouthful of his beer. "Sex is sex, man. Guys can be hot, too," he drawled.

Azimio frowned. "Like, what guys?"

Puck snorted. "You can quit worrying. I'd rather stuff my dick in a shredder than look at your naked ass." Azimio actually looked a little offended. 

"So, what guys, then?" Curiosity sent Karofsky leaning forward, propping his elbows on his thighs.

Puck rolled his head back to Karofsky and chuckled. "You never watched a movie and thought in the back of your head, 'hey, that guy is kinda hot'?"

Karofsky paused, and then shook his head cautiously. "No, I…no."

Puck threw his head back and laughed out loud. He clanged bottles with Mike, who also sported a huge grin. "The fact that you had to think about it says you have." Matt gave him a what-can-you-do look and nodded.

Karofsky flushed and his gaze darted guiltily from guy to guy, ending on Azimio. Azimio surveyed him thoughtfully. The other ball players sat silently, watching the drama play out. The silence was charged; they all traded hesitant and curious glances. 

Finally, Owens spoke up. "So, what do you think is hot on a guy?"

"What do you think is hot on a girl?" Matt answered softly, surprising most of the group. 

"Uh…" Owens looked cornered.

"Tits," Azimio challenged.

"Pecs," Puck countered.

"Ass."

"Ass." Mike grinned at the collective groan.

"Curves," Karofsky shot out, nervously eyeing Azimio.

"Guys can have curves, too," Finn announced. When the attention moved to him, he flushed and began to fiddle with the label on his beer.

"What about being able to wrap your hands around her waist?" Owens argued. The attention moved to him. "What?" he protested. "I like my women little."

"Have you ever met Kurt Hummel?" Puck asked, giving a little leer. Silence met his question. The guys looked everywhere but at him. Or each other. For the most part, they all seemed to find their beer bottles suddenly fascinating. Puck snorted and pushed to his feet. "I'm getting another beer, losers."

The uncomfortable silence grew deeper as he left, then, "Is he serious?" Miller turned to the remaining three Gleeks, his voice a step above a whisper. 

Mike shrugged. "What if he is?"

"What if he—?" Azimio slammed his beer down on the coffee table. "It's weird, that's what! You can't be a football player _and_ a fag!" 

Finn actually shot off the couch this time and had made it halfway over the table before Matt tackled him back to the cushions. "You don't fucking use that word!" he said, furiously, fighting against Matt's weight.

Azimio again held up his hands defensively. "Sorry! Jesus fuck, Hudson."

"Esera Tuaolo," Karofsky said quietly. Even Finn stopped spitting for a moment to look in confusion at Karofsky, who glanced up uneasily. "He was a gay football player. Drafted in '91."

And they were back to silence. Matt let Finn up but took a new seat at his side. Karofsky shifted uncomfortably and tried to set his beer on the table. A near miss revealed that his hands were shaking. Azimio stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed, disbelief written all over his face.

"That," Miller announced, "is actually kind of cool. Is he still playing?"

Karofsky cleared his throat and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. "Ah, no. He retired."

"I think I remember hearing about him," Owens offered. "Wasn't he, like, the last dude who ever took down Elway?"

"Really?" Azimio exploded. "We're really just gonna sit here and ignore the big shitpile in the room while we talk 'shop'?"

Puck wandered back out of the kitchen, hands full of bottles. "Kinda sounds like it. Here, man." He held out a beer to Karofsky. 

The other boy apprehensively took the proffered bottle. "Thanks," he whispered.

"No problem." 

"Well, I ain't gonna do it!" Azimio challenged, jumping to his feet. 

Puck grunted as he lazily dropped back into his seat and then looked up. "So, don't. Door's that way."

Azimio sputtered a moment longer, laying out glares onto the team members that were supposed to be on _his_ side. None of them would make eye contact. On the other hand, all of the Gleeks were full on watching. Matt shook his head in disappointment while Mike smiled quietly. Finn still looked enraged and a little unstable. Puck just beamed sweetly—and wasn't that a scary look?—and pointed to the door. 

"Fine!" Azimio snapped, standing and snatching up his jacket. "Didn't want to spend my time at a fag convention anyway." He heard shuffling and a grunt behind him, and he might have sped up a bit to get to the door. Hudson may be a big girl who liked to sing and dance, but he could really throw a right hook.

The door shut behind him and Karofsky let out an audible sigh of relief. He flushed when he realized how loud it was, but that seemed to set the tone for the night. The alcohol flowed freely, especially after Miller bribed his older brother to go out on another beer run, and they broke out the PS3. Matt and Owens teamed up against Mike and Miller while Finn seemed content to just watch and cheer random players on.

That found Puck and Karofsky on their own. For a long time, they just sat in silence, drinking and watching their friends. When the game changed out for Rock Band, and Owens and Miller surrendered their places to the Glee members, Karofsky finally spoke.

"So, you like Glee, huh?" he asked, watching Matt school Owens on the bass.

Puck nodded in his peripheral. "S'alright."

"Heard you got another year." 

Miller picked up the microphone and began wailing the lyrics to _More Than a Feeling_. Puck winced and chuckled at the constipated look Finn gave Miller a second before snatching the microphone away from him. Finn handed Miller his drums and gave him the stink eye until Miller settled down and began playing. 

"Yeah. Gotta place next year, though," he answered. He turned his head and looked appraisingly at Karofsky. "You sing?"

Karofsky turned red and stammered out random sounds. Puck grinned. "It's okay. I'm not going to threaten your badassness by asking you to sing."

Karofsky smiled back nervously. "I like music," he confessed. "I guess…I guess I just don't have the balls to get up in front of people and sing." Puck cocked an eyebrow at him. Karofsky sighed. "Yeah, I know. The gay kid has bigger balls than I do."

Puck snorted. "Hummel has bigger balls than anyone I've ever met."

Karofsky nodded, a wry smile on his face. "Don't know many people who could be thrown in a dumpster for years and then parade around school like they owned it in 10-inch high heels and a sparkly dress."

"You should've seen that performance," Puck leaned in conspiratorially. "He had the biggest heels out there, and he totally dominated them."

Karofsky froze when Puck leaned over and couldn't move again until Puck had moved back. Puck shook his head and took a pull on his beer. "You should really get over that," he said, conversationally. "You don't think every girl is hot, do you?" Karofsky slowly shook his head. "Well, gay guys aren't into everything with a dick, either. Everybody has their types, straight or gay."

Puck kept his eyes on the TV screen while Karofsky fidgeted next to him. "Um…" Karofsky started out so softly that Puck had to pull his eyes from the screen so he could see him also. "H-how do you know if you're…gay?"

Puck narrowed his eyes and stared intently. It was all Karofsky could do not to squirm under his gaze. "I don't know," he finally answered, turning to face the screen again. "I'm not gay." 

Karofsky's brow furrowed. "But, I thought you said you…"

"I do. And I like girls. Equal opportunity, man." He eyed Karofsky, taking in the disappointed air, and he sighed. "C'mon," he said, getting to his feet. "I need another beer." Karofsky followed quietly, nodding in thanks when Puck tossed him another as well.

Puck took a seat at the table and cracked his bottle open. "I'm not some gay advice column," he said. "I can't tell you what to feel, or how to act. Most days, can I barely pull myself together." Karofsky took the seat across from him. "If you really want answers, you should talk to Hummel."

Karofsky snorted and reared back in his chair. "Fuck, no!" 

Puck looked at him a bit contemptuously. "What exactly do you think he's going to do to you?"

"I dunno! Humiliate me, maybe?"

"Yeah, he could," Puck agreed, nodding. "But, that's not Hummel. He's an absolute queen, but he's not a douche like us. He won't laugh at you. Well, he might laugh until he sees that you're serious," he corrected. "After that, though, he won't. And he won't tell anyone."

"How do you know?" Karofsky hunched down in his chair, a pouty frown on his face. 

Puck shrugged. "Cause I know him. He's not like that."

Karofsky changed the subject. "You said you had the hots for him."

Puck raised an eyebrow and grinned. "I said he was _hot_ , yeah. Didn't say I had the hots for him."

It was Karofsky's turn to snort. "Whatever."

They sat quietly for long moments, draining their bottles; the only sounds were the whoops and music from the other room.

"You really wanna know?" Puck asked, finally. Karofsky just nodded. With a sigh, Puck got up and pulled another two beers from the fridge. "This could take a while."  
_____________________

Almost an hour later, Finn finally noticed that Puck and Karofsky were missing. It wasn't that he didn't trust Puck and Karofsky together—no, actually that was it exactly. He checked the bathroom first, then the back porch, and finally poked his nose into the kitchen. He found them both sitting with half a case of empty beer bottles littering the table in front of them. They were also giggling like twelve-year-old girls.

Finn smirked. "Am I interrupting?"

Karofsky's head shot up, his expression guilty, but Puck just smiled lazily and shook his head. "Nope." He popped the 'p', which was apparently the funniest thing Karofsky had ever heard. He fell forward onto the table and rolled his head back and forth. Puck just smiled down at him fondly.

Finn snorted. "Miller sent me in for more chips." He snagged two bags from the counter. "You guys want any before I take them out there?"

"Nope." He popped it again, and Karofsky howled, nearly falling out of his chair.

Finn rolled his eyes and retreated into the other room. "What's up with Karofsky?" he asked, tossing Miller a bag and plopping down on the couch to open the second one. "He's acting kind of weird."

Owens shoved his hand in Miller's chip bag, flinching as the other boy slugged him. He retreated, but not before grabbing a huge handful. "His mom sent him off to some tolerance camp."

"It was that or be expelled," Miller added.

"Yeah," Owens continued. "He's been real off since then. And he seems kind of wigged out by Azimio."

"Aren't we all," Mike nodded solemnly. He ducked from the shower of chips, and then snatched up a handful to munch as he leaned back against the couch.

"So, what's up with Puck?" Miller asked, making a face as Mike picked a dust bunny off of a chip before shoving it in his mouth.

"Yeah, what's with all the go-homo-go shit?" Owens added.

Finn narrowed his eyes again, but pulled it back a notch when all he saw was honest curiosity.   
"Dunno," he replied grudgingly. "He's been spending a lot of time at the house, though. He says he comes over to see me, but he usually ends up in the basement playing video games with Kurt or playing his guitar. I think he's teaching Kurt to play." He plucked his beer up and sank back into the cushiony chair. "He's stayed for dinner a few times, too. So, I dunno." He shrugged. "He hasn't been mean to Kurt in a long time. And he's stopped calling Kurt names. They're friends, I guess."

Mike stopped crunching long enough to snicker, then went back to shoving chips in his face.   
"What?" Finn sat up. "You know something I don't?"

Mike traded grins with Matt. "Hell yeah," Matt said. "Your boy has a full on man crush for Kurt."

Finn's eyes widened. "They didn't… please tell me not on my bed?" Matt and Mike burst into laughter, and Miller and Owens grinned, watching the play between the three Gleeks with interest. 

"No. they haven't…" He made quotes with his fingers and widened his eyes. "Not in your bed. Not at all actually."

Matt shook his head. "He doesn't think Kurt likes him like that way. Thinks he still has a crush on you."

Finn snorted. "Yeah. As if. That went away real quick. First time he did a load of my laundry, you'd think I asked him to clean the toilet with his toothbrush or something!" he huffed. "After that, he's been treating me more like a naughty puppy than a crush."

The others dissolved into laughter again, Gleeks and jocks. They rolled around on the carpet until they were wiping tears from their eyes. Finn looked miffed at first, but eventually gave in and grinned, making doggy paws and sticking his tongue out.

A clatter of glass and a crash announced Puck's and Karofsky's return to the living room. "Fuck!" Karofsky yelled from the floor. A grinning Puck held his hand out to pull Karofsky up, even though Puck was weaving unsteadily, too. Upright, the two supported each other over to the couch in the far corner of the room. 

"What the fuck? We're over here, dumbass," Finn called out.

Puck waved his hand vaguely in Finn's direction. "We know," he said, a slight slur in his voice. "We gotta make a phone call."

"So, why didn't you stay in the kitchen?" Mike asked, chuckling as Karofsky got tangled up in the standing plant next to the couch.

Puck cocked his head and scratched it. "I dunno. Hey, Karofsky! Why didn't we stay in the kitchen?"

Karofsky won his battle with the wily greenery, but face planted into the couch as a result. "You wanted chips," he called, his voice muffled by the cushion.

"Oh!" Puck perked up and staggered the few feet between them to pluck Miller's bag of chips out of his hand.

"Hey!" Miller protested.

"Send your brother out for more." He stumbled over the rug and clutched the bag so tightly that it crunched.

"Fuck, man! You're crushing them!" Owens whined. 

"See?" Puck grinned back at them. "You don't want them now, anyway. Now, be quiet. We have an important call to make."

Karofsky had his cell out and ready when Puck landed beside him on the couch. He grabbed the bag away from Puck, shoving the phone into his chest instead. "Here. You dial. I don't know his number."

The five other boys watched in curious amusement as Puck carefully punched in one number after the other. "It's ringing!" he whispered loudly.

Karofsky pawed at the phone. "Put it on speaker!"

Puck smacked his hands away. "I got it. I _got_ it! Knock it off." He poked the speaker button and set the phone down on the end table.

"Hello?" a voice said, cautiously.

"Hey! Kurt! Hi, man." Puck grinned at the phone as though Kurt could see him.

"Puck?" Kurt asked, incredulously.

"Yeah, it's me."

Silence.

"Kurt? You still there?"

"Why are you calling me on Dave Karofsky's phone, Puck?"

Puck blinked at the phone. "Cause I can't find mine?"

A sigh.

"Okay. Let's try this again. Why are you _with_ Dave Karofsky?"

"A few of the guys got together at Miller's house."

"Hi, Kurt!" the other group of boys chorused. Puck looked startled at first, but then grinned at them.

"Puck…who all is there?" Kurt asked slowly.

"Um…me and Finn and Mike and Matt and Miller and Owens and Karofsky." He squinted an eye closed and pointed to each one in turn. Then his eyes widened. "Oh, and Azimio was here, but we pissed him off and he left."

"You pissed him off. How'd you manage that? You tell him he drank girl-beer?" Kurt asked wryly.

"Nope." He popped the 'p' again and once more, Karofsky lost it. Puck punched him good-naturedly as he rolled onto Puck's leg. "He left cause he didn't wanna catch the gay."

Silence.

"Kurt?"

Silence.

"Kurt? You there?"

Karofsky stopped rolling around and peered really hard at the phone, as though he were trying to see if Kurt were still on the other end.

"Tell him about the football guy," he whispered loudly to Puck.

"Puck, am I on speakerphone?" Kurt asked, all emotion completely gone from his voice.

"Uh…yeah?" Puck's voice rose at the end, turning his answer into a question.

A sigh drifted over the phone. "Puck, it's late. I'm tired, and I'm not in the mood for you to suddenly reassert your douchebaggery through drunk calling me with a bunch of your jock buddies. If you want to stop hanging out, just stop hanging out. I won't push. We can just leave each other alone."

"What…but…what…?" Puck sputtered ineffectually.

"Frankly, I'm a little disappointed with you, though. I don't understand why you couldn't just tell me instead of getting drunk and having your homophobic friends convince you not to hang with the dirty fag."

Puck and Karofsky stared at each other, horror in both wide-eyed expressions. "Kurt, that's not—"

"Don't bother, Puck," Kurt cut him off. "I really should have expected it."

"But—"

"Goodnight, Puck."

Then, there was nothing. Puck slumped, and all the laughter and life seemed to desert him. Karofsky shook his head and shoved the phone at Puck. "Call him back!" he demanded.

"There's no point," Puck said, impassively. "He won't answer. He thinks I'm just calling to make fun of him."

"Bullshit!" Karofsky scoffed. "Not after the last few weeks. He has to know better than that."

"He may know it, but he won't believe it." Puck sighed and shifted so that his head lay on the armrest of the couch.

Karofsky stared in disbelief at Puck's sad figure, and then he glanced across the room. His expression brightened. "Finn!" he crowed. "He has to answer from Finn. He's like his brother or something." Karofsky bounded over, only tripping once over the coffee table, and imperiously held out his hand. 

Finn reluctantly pulled out his cell and handed it over. While Karofsky tripped his way back to Puck, he exchanged worried glances with Matt and Mike. Karofsky opened the phone up and began scrolling though Finn's contact list. "Ah ha!" He grinned victoriously, and punched send.

It rang for a long time. Just before it went to voicemail, however, Kurt answered. "What, Finn?" he demanded impatiently. Karofsky shoved the phone at Puck, but Puck just pushed his face further into the cushion. "Finn, if you don't answer me in the next three seconds, I'm telling your mom that you're drinking," Kurt threatened.

Karofsky swallowed loudly and lifted the phone to his ear. "Um…hey. Hummel. Uh, Kurt."

"Who is this?" Kurt replied warily.

"Er…Dave? Karofsky. It's Dave Karofsky." A word Karofsky didn't even know Kurt knew flew through the phone. "Wait!" he said, panicked. "Don't hang up!"

"What the hell do you want, Karofsky?" Kurt spat out.

"Don't be mad at Puck, okay? Calling you was my idea."

"Oh, I'm sure it was," Kurt responded, snidely. "Making sure I wasn't home so you could nail my furniture to the roof again?"

Karofsky flushed and picked at a loose thread on his jeans. "No. No pranks. I just wanted…Look," he sighed. "Puck was really cool earlier. He backed Azimio off of me and made him leave. We started talking…" His voice died away as he searched for the words.

"And drinking, I'm assuming?" Kurt added, but his voice sounded less pissy than before.

Karofsky snorted. "Oh, yeah. Puck can put away a lot of beer." He fell silent again. 

Kurt sighed. "Okay, I'll bite. What were you talking about?"

"You."

"I'm sure."

"No! Not like…We talked about how you don't take shit off nobody. You stand up for yourself even when you get beat down." Silence answered his statement. "I think that's cool. And Puck does, too. He thinks _you're_ cool. And…and funny and nice and…and talented! He really likes you." He fidgeted with the loose thread again.

"…Karofsky, are you trying to hook me up with Puck?" Kurt asked, uncertainly.

"Yeah." Karofsky sighed, relieved that Kurt finally got it.

"What the fuck have you guys been drinking?"

Karofsky snickered. "You said fuck."

"What?"

"Fuck. You said fuck." He snorted in laughter.

"Oh, dear Lord, it's Beavis and Butthead," Kurt murmured wearily. "Karofsky, put Puck back on," he ordered. Karofsky nearly lost the phone in his hurry to comply.

"Puck. Bitch, get up. He wants to talk to you."

Puck waved Karofsky away. "No, he's just gonna yell at me."

Karofsky pulled the phone back. "He won't sit up. He says you're gonna yell at him."

"What the…!" A loud thud could be heard on the other end and Karofsky nervously looked at the phone before putting it back to his ear. "Put the phone where he can hear it," Kurt demanded. Karofsky wedged the phone under Puck's cheek and helpfully put a meaty hand on Puck's head to hold it still.

"Noah Puckerman, is this just some bullshit joke, or is Karofsky telling the truth?" Kurt yelled.

Puck thrashed under Karofsky's hand, finally getting a knee up and shoving him off onto the floor. He glared down at the sprawled out boy and snatched up the phone. "No, it's not a joke," he said, turning away with a final glare. "We talked for a long time. A whole half-rack, actually."

"Wonderful," Kurt said, sarcastically. "You tell time via alcohol intake."

"Huh?"

"Never mind," Kurt sighed. "Okay. This is what's going to happen, Puck. You and Karofsky are going to stop drinking right now. You are then going to sleep it off. Tomorrow, when your hangover is gone, if you still feel the same way, you can call me again. If not, we'll just chalk it up to drunken stupidity and never talk about it again. All right?" Puck nodded happily. "I can't see you nodding, Puck," Kurt said, a hint of a smile in his voice. 

"Oh, right," Puck said, sheepishly. "Um, yeah. We can do that."

"Good. Now go get your new best friend and find somewhere to pass out. I'll talk to you later. Goodnight, Puck."

Puck grinned at the others, still watching. "Okay. Night, Kurt." He snapped the phone shut and tossed it down onto Karofsky's chest.

"Well?" Karofsky said, hopefully.

"He told us to pass out somewhere and call him tomorrow if I still feel the same." Puck almost wiggled.

"Whooo!" Karofsky yelled, high-fiving Puck.

Puck rolled to his feet, smacking his elbow into the end table on the way. "Ow! C'mon. We have to plan what I'm supposed to say tomorrow." He snagged Karofsky by the arm and dragged him to his feet. Arms around each other's shoulders, they stumbled down the hallway towards what Puck thought was the direction of Miller's spare room. "When me and Kurt get together, then we'll have to work on you and—oof! Fucker! What'dya hit me for? You’re the one that said you liked him!"

As their voices faded down the hall, the boys left in the living room exchanged looks. "Did that really just happen?" Owens carefully asked.

Mike nodded, still staring down the hallway. "Yes. Yes, it did. Gentlemen, welcome to the new world order."

"Be afraid," Matt agreed. "Be very afraid."

"What?" Finn asked curiously. "I think it's kind of cute."

His protests were drowned under a rain of pillows and laughter.


End file.
